


Have Yourself a Merry Iggy Christmas

by littlecakes



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, just a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17032155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecakes/pseuds/littlecakes
Summary: Ignis wants to give Prompto his best Christmas ever.





	Have Yourself a Merry Iggy Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SunshineAndSnark (GoodApollo27)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodApollo27/gifts).



> This is a gift for SunshineandSnark for the Promnis Secret Santa exchange!! Enjoy! I hope you like it ><

Vanilla and cardamom encompass the kitchen of Ignis and Prompto’s Citadel apartment. It’s truly intoxicating; the aroma seems to caress every nook and cranny of space, including Ignis’ nose. His eyelashes flutter shut as he briskly stirs a chocolate sauce with one hand, while putting the finishing touches on his homemade eggnog with the other.

The apartment has been filled with spirit over the last three days. Ignis quietly admits to himself that he didn’t have much time- Prompto would soon return from his wintry expedition to photograph Ravatough among surrounding hills of snow- so that’s why there’s a few touches missing. The handsome tree in the corner, covered with tinsel and glittering with tiny, golden ornaments, is lacking a star atop it. He feels silly for forgetting something so quintessentially  _ Yuletide _ . Perhaps an extra bough of holly over the mantle would look nicer. The garula roasting in the oven is nothing compared to roasted chicatrice, but the market was all out of the festive dish.

Still, though. The tiny sprig of mistletoe over the door should give him enough time to wrap his husband in his arms, adorn him with kisses, and make him forget all about Christmases past he’d spent in solitude. Sure, it only took one disastrous road trip and ten years of darkness to get it done, but it’s worth it. Ignis knows that the smile that graces his beloved’s face, surrounded by the warmth of his friends in holiday spirits, will be the best gift he’s ever received, or will receive.

A knock at the door draws Ignis’ attention and he rushes over to open it. Gladiolus and Noctis are standing there, their arms heaving with packages and dishes. Ignis smiles, amused to see his King and friend so laden with items. It seems they share his appreciation and excitement for the occasion as well.

“Happy holidays,” Gladio says, handing Ignis a bottle of brandy.

“Where’s Prom?” Noct asks eagerly.

Ignis smiles at him warmly and thanks Gladio for the final ingredient in his eggnog. Looking down at Noctis and taking the packages from his hands, he replies, “I just received a text from him not ten minutes ago informing me that he should be here any moment.”

Noctis smiles broadly at that, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes furrowing just a touch more from the stretch of his cheeks. He looks weary, still, and Ignis will forever worry about that, but Noctis assures him time and time again that ‘it just takes awhile to wake up from a ten-year nap, Specs’. Noct’s vitality seems strong as ever in these past several months they’ve spent bringing the Citadel and Insomnia back to life.

It’s about time they celebrated.

Gladiolus sheds his coat and hangs it on the old coat rack that stands guard by the door. His dark eyelashes flutter shut as he inhales. “Igs. Smells  _ good  _ in here. Whatcha got cookin’?”

“I wish it were chickatrice, but unfortunately, it’s just garula in a bed of roast vegetables. I’ve also prepared some chocolate fondue for dessert. I assume we’ll have our fill of eggnog and candy,” he answers, flashing a devilish smile at his king at the mention of vegetables.

Narrowing his eyes, Noctis frowns. “Good thing there’s garula and candy, I guess.”

“Thirty years old and still, you won’t eat your vegetables. Manchild,” Gladio teases, though the arm he snakes around his king’s waist is anything but teasing.

“I’ll banish them, don’t make me do it,” Noctis murmurs darkly.

Ignis only laughs and shakes his head. “Help me set the table before Prompto gets here. I want everything to be perfect for his first,  _ real _ Christmas.”

“It already looks like somethin’ off a postcard in here, Iggy,” Gladio says as he peers around their apartment. It’s true; with all the time Noctis gave Ignis off for Christmas, he’s gone and decorated every square inch of their apartment while Prompto was gone. The whole living room sparkles like a gem and smells of pine, eggnog, and cinnamon. A roaring fireplace ties it all together.

While Gladio helps Ignis set the table, Noctis snatches the packages Ignis left on the sofa and carefully organizes them under the tree. He takes a moment to inspect what’s already there and Ignis can hear his grumble of discontent.

“I told you not to get me anything,” Noct mumbles, as he picks up a small box with his name on it.

Ignis flashes him a knowing look. “I suppose you will have to try me for treason then, you see, for that’s not the only gift bearing your name in that pile.”

Gladio laughs and Noct’s face grows red.

“I got you some things, too, does that mean I’m also tried for treason?” Gladio suggests.

Noctis glowers at them both. He looks almost out of place in his red sweater and jeans, but Ignis could say the same for any of them. It warms his heart to think of this as a fond memory they’ll all remember. So much time has passed since they’ve been able to share a moment like this, just the four of them.

“I guess we’re all traitors then,” Noct says with an impish smile.

Gladio takes his king in a headlock and applies his knuckles with force to the crown of his head. “You royal fuckin’ hypocrite-”

“Try not to damage the sole heir of Lucis  _ too _ much, Gladiolus,” Ignis says, his tone so softly chastising it could easily be taken as humorous. The Shield releases his headlock, if only to press a kiss to Noct’s lips.

“Nah, I’m not bustin’ up the goods, don’t worry, Igs.”

Ignis hears the faint sound of a hand swatting denim and Noctis hiss through his teeth.

“Gentlemen, it’s  _ Christmas, _ do try to keep it clean until at least after you’ve had your fair share of brandy.”

Almost in unison, Noctis and Gladio reply, “No promises.”

“What are we not promising?” Prompto asks as he steps in the doorway. His long, flaxen hair is littered with snowflakes. His freckles, faded from the long night, hide amongst the vivid blush that’s painted on his cheeks, surely brought by winter’s icy kiss. That same chill makes his violet eyes glimmer, which only increases tenfold as he takes in the decadence with which Ignis has decorated their apartment.

His jaw dropping, he murmurs, “Iggy?”

“Yes, love?” Ignis asks, all too casually, as he takes his husband’s bags, only to deposit them on the floor beside them and swoop him up in his arms. “What is it?”

“This is  _ our _ apartment,” Prompto says, wide-eyed.

“Indeed it is, darling.”

Ignis kisses Prompto sweetly at the corner of his mouth until the blonde pulls himself back together enough to kiss him back. The smile teasing at the corners of Prompto’s mouth makes Ignis’ heart skip a beat; he simply cannot wait to share this evening with the three people he cares for the most, Prompto especially.

He knows all too well what Prompto’s childhood was like. Living alone must have been awfully lonesome during the holidays, and it wasn’t like they had a chance to celebrate after their fateful roadtrip. The decade of darkness didn’t contribute to the holiday spirit, either.

But now? With all of them together, happy and healthy? There’s no better time or place for Ignis to drown Prompto in the most wonderful Christmas he can put together. Sure, there could have been a gala or a huge party, but Ignis knows Prompto better than anyone else. There isn’t anywhere else in Eos that Prompto would rather be than by their sides, just the four of them together.

“Are you hungry?” Ignis asks, taking Prompto’s damp coat and hanging it on the rack. Noctis is right there to steal him away, sweeping the blonde into a gentle embrace. Ignis waits patiently for the two friends to greet each other. Gladio and Prompto share a quick high-five in greeting.

“Yeah, dude, I’m  _ starving _ , and it smells amazing in here!” Prompto exclaims, making his way to the kitchen and opening the oven. “Gods,” he says with a shiver. “I’m gonna die of like, pure bliss.”

“You haven’t even had dessert yet,” Ignis whispers in Prompto’s ear after sidling up behind him.

“Or presents,” Noctis says pointedly.

Gladio frowns at him. “Look who’s excited for gifts  _ now _ .”

Dinner goes off without a hitch. Well, mostly, save for Noctis and Gladio arguing over the last slice of garula. Ignis makes quick work of that problem by depositing on his husband’s plate with a swift kiss to the cheek. “Now, eat that, darling, before they can continue further.”

Prompto only stutters and nods fervently, tucking a long lock of blonde hair behind his ear before digging in. Ignis pauses to watch Prompto enjoy himself; it’s not often that the blonde indulges in such decadent eats. He’s enraptured, savoring every morsel before washing it down with a swig of mulled wine. His cheeks are already tinged pink and his laughter rings like a bell at the sight of his company’s shock at their loss.

Maybe Ignis has had a little too much mulled wine, too. He can’t stop looking at Prompto or admiring the way he radiates energy and love. The gunner’s always been the glue that held them together through thick and thin, through daybreak and midnight, through strife and joy. Ignis knows he wouldn’t have it any other way; he’d fight the daemons a million times more if it meant he got to stay by Prompto’s side.

It’s then that Prompto catches him staring, between bouts of raucous, tipsy laughter shared by king and shield. The blush returns to his cheeks and his long, blond eyelashes dance over them like sugarplum fairies. Ignis feels weightless and knows his dear love has stolen his heart yet again. He smiles and sighs before reaching for Prompto’s hand under the table.

“You look happy, Igs,” Prompto murmurs, squeezing Ignis’ hand.

Ignis can’t help it if the fingers of the hand he’s resting his chin on curl over his face shyly. “Whatever would give you that idea?”

Narrowing his eyes, Prompto says in a voice so deep it’s practically a purr, “You’re blushing.”

“Too much wine,” Ignis hums, stroking his fingers along the wrinkles and scars of Prompto’s palm that’s cradled in his own.

“Sure, sure,” Prompto sighs, glancing over at Noctis and Gladio, who are far too enthralled in each other to possibly pay attention to Prompto and Ignis. “I think you missed me.”

Ignis only smiles at his husband.

“You did, you so did, tell me, I wanna hear it.”

“I would never,” Ignis whispers, “ever miss you. That’s why I decorated the house, bought gifts, and cooked this extravagant meal. This was all for me, me and me alone.” His tone grows more and more sultry as he speaks, until his lips are dancing over Prompto’s and he can feel the blond’s slightly chapped lips stick to his as they touch.

Prompto giggles impishly before taking Ignis’ face in his hands and bestowing him with a multitude of kisses. Ignis is sure that the blond truly has stolen his heart out of his chest as he tastes his sweet, wine-painted lips and the flavor of berry on his tongue. He’s sure that if Prompto had the choice, he would give it back to him only so he could take it away time and time again.

“Well, I missed you enough for both of us,” Prompto teases.

Scoffing, Ignis pulls Prompto into his lap.

Wrapping his arms around his neck, Prompto kisses him once, twice, three times, until Ignis loses count and himself in the wave of adoration that sweeps over him like the tide. He makes a silent, solemn promise that he will always be there when Prompto returns, be it after three days or thirty. A series of gagging sounds echoes from across the table, but Prompto’s arm recedes from Ignis’ neck, surely to offer his Majesty and Shield a rude gesture.

Ignis’ laugh is drowned in fervent kisses and mumbled affirmations. Each one is sweeter and more intoxicating than any glass of wine he has had that evening. Despite his Majesty’s complaints, Ignis can’t help but indulge in every single offering of sweetness bestowed upon him by his lover, drinking them up until he’s dizzy. A sweet thrill ricochets through him with every kiss.

“Let’s go open presents, Gladio, they’re grossing me out,” Noctis sighs.

The sound of chair legs scooting across the floors is accompanied by the heavy clunk of boots and soft socked feet moving across the floor. The two are too engrossed in each other to notice Gladio lift Noctis high enough to grab the mistletoe from its precarious perch. It’s far too late for them and they aren’t alerted of the shenanigans until the mistletoe hurtles across the room and hits Prompto square in the face.

“You forgot that!” Noctis cackles.

“You’re lucky you’re the king,” Ignis chides.

“And I royally decree that you two quit kissing and come over here for presents,” Noctis called.

Prompto sighs sadly, kissing Ignis one last time before pulling away to look at him with shining, violet eyes. “I guess that’s our cue,” he says sadly.

“I suppose,” Ignis surmises. “Though, I’ve already received plenty of presents.”

The bemused look on Prompto’s face makes the adviser smile. He kisses Prompto, whispering, “another present for me,” kisses him again, “and another,” and with one final kiss, murmurs, “and a last one. For good measure.”

“I love you, weirdo,” Prompto giggles.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”


End file.
